Warmness on the Soul
by PyroKitty24
Summary: modern!au. Enjolras is leaving for America at the end of the semester and Grantaire has only one thing to do. Warning: suicide/character death. One sided GrantairexEnjolras


_It wasn't always like this._

The brunet stumbled into his apartment after having barely managed to unlock the door. He dropped the keys on the floor and slammed the door shut behind him, wincing as the noise echoed off the walls. The drunkard fell back against the door when it closed and smacked his head on it in the process. The bottle in his hand hit the wall and shattered. The art student touched the back of his head gingerly and winced at the pain it brought. When he pulled his hand back it was slick with blood.

"Fuck, Grantaire, what have you done now, you drunk fool?" the man groaned to himself before slumping onto the floor. Another pain shot through him. After examining himself, he realized it had come from his arm. There was now a large cut spanning the length of his forearm that oozed blood. He had cut himself on a piece of glass from his broken beer bottle.

Slowly, Grantaire reached for the bloody piece of glass and plucked it off of the floor. He slid a finger down the edge of the glass. When he pulled the digit back it was also slicked in his blood.

The pain felt good. That surprised Grantaire. Drinking was normally the worst torture he did to his body. Normally his friends stopped him from hurting himself too much while drunk.

His friends. Right. That was why he was here.

"Shit!" Grantaire slid the glass into his other arm, making a cut to match the first. The physical pain felt so much better than the inner turmoil that stirred in his belly. He had always hated himself- it was why he turned to drinking in the first place. It made that pain go away. It was an unimaginable pain. He had read someone once describe it as if it was a stomach ache but all over. That pain was there every day though. Like you need to throw up, but you just can't. You never can.

Without even realizing it, Grantaire had already sliced his arm open enough to drench it in blood. The blood was all over his jeans and was slowly dripping down to the floor.

"Enjolras will be mad." He chuckled fondly at the thought of Enjolras scolding him for getting blood on the nice, clean floor. The laughter suddenly stopped when the thought of Enjolras entered his mind.

Grantaire let out a sob and slid the glass into his other arm. He dug it in as deeply as he could before tugging it down the length of his arm. He let out a cry as the glass left its jagged marks in his skin. Blood gushed out of the wound. _Enjolras is leaving me. He's moving. I'm over._ Grantaire lifted the glass from his skin with a grunt before making a similar cut next to the first.

Enjolras had been Grantaire's roommate all throughout university. It was their last semester of senior year, and Enjolras had shared with their group of friends that he was planning on moving to America to study law. He had been accepted into one of their best law schools, and Grantaire was happy for him. But he knew that he couldn't follow Enjolras to America. Not only did he not have the money, but he knew Enjolras wouldn't want him there. They got along fairly well after that rocky first year, well enough to stay roommates, but Grantaire could never admit his feelings to the other male. He knew some of their other friends were gay, but Enjolras seemed to have no sexuality at all. Grantaire had asked Enjolras about his sexuality and thoughts on romance many times before. It was always the same- the blond insisted he didn't care for love and romantic actions.

For Grantaire, a life without Enjolras just wasn't a life worth living. He had only come to university for something to do, hoping the pain in his soul would be put to ease. With Enjolras, it had been. Without Enjolras, Grantaire knew he could never go on. But if he confessed his true love to the other, Grantaire knew he would be rejected. That rejection would be the worst pain he would ever feel in his life. He couldn't put up with it. It was either die or continue living his miserable existence without Enjolras. Grantaire knew what choice he needed to make.

Screaming out in pain, Grantaire dug the glass deep into one of his wrists. He tore at himself until he was covered with blood. He felt faint, but still had enough energy to keep going. The faster he died the better. He had no idea when Enjolras was coming back from his outing with Marius.

By the time he had ripped apart both wrists, Grantaire didn't have the energy to scream. The slick glass slipped right out of his hands and the drunk collapsed onto his side. He let out a small whimper when he landed on the remains of his bottle, but there was nothing he could do about it now. He was too tired to move. He was even too tired to think straight. The last thing on Grantaire's mind was Enjolras. His perfect smile, his soft, curly blond hair, his glimmering blue eyes…

_No, it hadn't always been this way. Enjolras had captured Grantaire's life, whether he wanted it or not._

"Hm, the door is unlocked. Grantaire must have made it home safely." That was a load off of Enjolras's mind. He had been worried about him all night, so much so that Marius suggested they go back to their apartment to study so Enjolras could know when Grantaire makes it home.

"I told you it was nothing to worry about." Marius commented, giving his friend a friendly punch in the side.

Enjolras opened his mouth to reply as he pushed against the door. He instead stopped and turned to scrutinize the door when it didn't open. He tried again and received the same response.

"This is strange. I can tell it's unlocked." Enjolras was worried again.

"Maybe Grantaire managed to block the door. Here, let me help."

When both boys pushed their weight against the door, it easily opened.


End file.
